


Voron

by uminoko



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: BuckyNat week, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uminoko/pseuds/uminoko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which 616 Bucky and Natasha run into each other during World War II.  The title means "Raven," which a reference to "Black Raven," the folk song mentioned in the fic.  Teen for language (Russian language).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voron

"I swear I saw a kid here younger than me," Bucky told Steve in the alleyway of the crumbling German town.  "Spotted him scurrying across camp with a big-ass rifle on his back."  
  
"Feeling territorial?"  
  
Bucky shrugged at Steve's smirk.  It's not like he was the only one in the Army:  there was Toro, too, and a few others who snuck by, although they were generally the bigger, meaner-looking sort.  Besides, the kid he saw was wearing one of those fuzzy Russian hats with a commie star, so chances are, he wasn't one of theirs.  
  
That night, he tracked him down in camp, just to make sure.  
  
He came up on the kid on the outskirts of the Russian side, right at the invisible border drawn between the supposed allies.  Now, sure, the Soviets were friendly enough, in that soldier way, and they had the good booze, which they didn't hesitate to share.  If they shared enough, they'd try to get you to sing with them, something raw and loud, but Bucky could never make out the words.  One time, he got blistering drunk with three Russians, and before he passed out, he saw them take off their hats and sing quietly, weeping like widows at a funeral.  He'd never seen a man cry like that.  When ma died, James Barnes, Sr. closed his eyes, set his jaw, then straightened his back and went on taking care of what needed to be taken care of, so that's what Bucky did when the time came to stand at his father's gravestone.  
  
The Russian kid was humming that song as he rummaged through his supplies.  
  
"Ey," Bucky said, not particularly loudly.  He could sneak up on near anyone at camp, even Steve, and he'd make a game of it sometimes, if the action was slow or he couldn't sleep, but he didn't want to startle the kid.  
  
But he did anyway.  The Russian's shoulders jumped, and his head jerked around so fast that his fuzzy hat fell off into the spring dirt.  
  
In the half-light of the evening, the kid had a sharp, starved look to him, with eyes too big for his face and mouth pressed in a line.  Immediately, Bucky could see why he kept the hat on even in this weather:  the hair that was growing into the usual shorn cut that all their soldiers had was bright red.  Bad color for a sniper or anyone else who wished to remain unnoticed.  
  
Bucky held his hands up, palms out.  " _I'm sorry, please, I just wanted to chat.  I like your hat._ "  
  
He spoke Russian passing well, but he didn't make it known for obvious reasons.  It's always more fun to hear what the other side has to say when they don't know you're listening.  
  
The kid narrowed his eyes, but did not respond.  Bucky smiled wide, then crouched, like he would with a stray puppy.  Then, he caught the glint of steel at the kid's hip and realized that the puppy was gripping a knife.  
  
" _Hey, that's unnecessary_ ," Bucky said evenly.  " _Russians and Americans are brothers forever, huh?_ "  
  
They both chuckled, and the kid let go of the knife.  Soviets have been spreading this crap, probably worried the soldiers would kill their allies on accident, but, of course, you'd be a fool to believe it would hold after the bombs stopped falling.  The tension broke, however.  Bucky plopped down on the ground and the kid went back to digging through the rations.  
  
" _You hungry?  I could bring you some food._ "  
  
He shook his head.  Maybe he wasn't younger after all, just smaller.  Maybe he was concussed.  Bucky's seen folks come back after battles not being able to speak a word.  Sometimes, medics helped, sometimes they didn't.  
  
Bucky rocked forward and reached out his hand.  " _Is everything OK?_ "  - but before his palm reached the other guy's shoulder, Bucky's face hit the ground.  The kid pinned his arm at a painful angle; _shit, he's had combat training, too_.  Adrenalin shot through him, cold and joyful.  
  
He wiggled, shoulder popping dully to signal dislocation, and grabbed the ankle in front of him, yanking hard.  
  
" _Blyad_ '," the kid said as he sprawled next to him, and the dominos fell in Bucky's head.  
  
It seemed obvious now, looking at his opponent's face up close, and hearing the voice, even if low, as a dead giveaway; maybe not for your average grunt, but Bucky's got a trained ear.  A heavy coat may mask a build, but not the voice.  
  
"You're a dame!"  
  
She rolled away, sat up, and dusted herself off.  " _Leave me alone.  I'm not bothering you, go back to your side._ "  
  
Bucky popped his shoulder back in.  He's heard of the Russian sniper women, but this was the first time he's seen one up close.  When she didn't press her lips together, they looked full and very, very red.  
  
He fidgeted and looked away.  " _So, you're a--_ "  he started, then realized he didn't know the Russian word for 'volunteer.'  He was pretty sure the Soviets didn't draft women, but it was something to say.  " _You're here of your own free will?  In battle?_ "  
  
" _In the war?_ "  She looked at him like he was crazy.  
  
" _I mean…_ " he looked around, as if the German dirt could offer linguistic tips.  "Volunteer?"  
  
The girl kitted her eyebrows.  " _We're all volunteers.  Za Rodinu._ "  
  
She sighed, as though she didn't expect him to understand, and he didn't, because no shit, he's heard a guy scream that phrase throwing himself under a Panzer, grenade in hand.    
  
Russians are crazy.  
  
" _I also wanted to fight_ ," he said.  
  
She frowned down at her pack.  " _You're an idiot._ "  
  
Bucky decided he may have exhausted all topics of conversation and, unable to think of any other approach, got up and went back to his side of the camp. 


End file.
